


Know

by TheVeryLastValkyrie



Series: And They Fell Like Dominoes [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVeryLastValkyrie/pseuds/TheVeryLastValkyrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of a filthy rich boy and a clever dick girl at one of the world's most prestigious universities; of cheap wine and red plush; of betrayal, and bad blood, and her reading glasses. This time, they fall apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know

**Author's Note:**

> Migrated from my Tumblr. Here be F words, and a lot of other words besides.

“You’re not even denying it.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I did.” She’s sitting on her bed, which has a flowery bedspread, which is a place they rarely lie (they prefer the settee). Her words ring hollow, her chest chimes hollowly. “Why bother lying?”

When he closes his hand around her throat, her ashen face comes up, and for a moment, she thinks it’s going to be alright. They can fuck the hurt out of each other, fuck it away, fuck each other clean. She can feel clean for the first time since Thomas, sure in his brother’s sweat. If he’s touching her, she thinks, then there’s hope.

(She had so much hope before Thomas. She had so much hope before his brother. She had so much hope when she was herself, but then she learnt to love, and hope and love wound around each other and became one strand of something wonderful. She had something wonderful before Thomas, before the golden boy in the pink shirt. Annie had so much hope before she did what she did on Thomas’ brother’s bedspread, did what she did for love).

But Ollie stops touching her. But Ollie goes back to pacing. His feet raise hollow sounds from the rickety floor, because old buildings can hold their breath too.

“Was it all a lie?” She’s empty and he’s burnt, blackened. “Did you ever love me?” Burnt, blackened, and if her words are hollow, then his are the bitty, gritty black remains of where the fire died. He’s sweating through his shirt, through his skin.

“You know I did. I _love_ you!”

But nothing will ever be alright again.


End file.
